Fear
by Virginia May
Summary: When Bella discovers Edward is a vampire, she is not accepting or intrigued as much as she is afraid and repulsed. Will she let him be her hero on the streets of Port Angeles? Or will she finally run screaming? My entry in The Canon Tour: Twilight Round, hosted by Solareclipses. NOW EXPANDED.
1. Chapter 1

***Entry in _The Canon Tour_: _Twilight_ Round***

_**Summary– **__When Bella discovers Edward is a vampire, she is not accepting or intrigued as much as she is afraid and repulsed. Will she let him be her hero on the streets of Port Angeles? Or will she finally run screaming? A lesson in fear and consequences__**.**_

_**Disclaimer– **__The first paragraph is a direct quote from Twilight. The rest is an homage to the original material. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer.  
>No copyright infringement is intended. <em>

_Thank you to **Solareclipses** for moderating The Canon Tour. To see the winners & read the rest of the entries, please visit the contest profile! :-)  
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**_ ww w . fanfiction u/3041014/ thecanontour_**

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><p><span>FEAR<span>:

_If_ Edward was a vampire—I could hardly make myself think the word—then what should I do? Involving someone else was definitely out. I couldn't even believe myself; anyone I told would have me committed.

Anyone other than Jacob Black, at least, or maybe his father. But then I would have betrayed Jacob's confidence after I'd sworn to take this to the grave.

And that was the crux of the situation right there... would I take it to the grave?

_If_ it was all true, then why had Edward tried to warn me away from him? Was he playing some kind of game? Was it the thrill of the chase he enjoyed? Or was there a modicum of truth to the myth I'd stumbled upon online? Were there good vampires out there?

Or was it something else? Some other unfathomable reason for him to have behaved the way he has since we met.

Another of the legends I'd read earlier this morning ran through my head. I could hardly think of it, but had to consider the possibility.

Could it all be some kind of elaborate seduction? Could it be more than just my blood he was after? Surely, if I were to believe anything, I had to believe there was a reason Edward Cullen had paid so much attention to me — boring, plain-as-a-Forks'-day, Bella Swan.

A bird cawed loudly in the distance, startling me. My heart began pounding loudly in my chest, effectively putting an end to my self-deprecation and reminding me why I came out here. Alone... in the forest.

I couldn't deny it. I was afraid. Mortal fear coursed through me, along with a frightening number of _what ifs_. It was making me dizzy and a little sick to my stomach. I had to make a decision. I had to decide what I was going to do.

I thought again through the options.

One, I could pretend like nothing was different. I could play dumb and change nothing at all; see what happens. The problem with that choice was that I wasn't a very convincing liar. Edward would know something was up the next time he saw me.

My second choice was to flee. I could, potentially, run home to Mommy. It was impractical, but it was an option. Except that, when push comes to shove, I could never leave Charlie like that. How would I explain it without making it sound as though I'm leaving him for the same reasons my mother had? No, that one was out.

So, then, the third option – tell Edward I came to my senses. I would explain that I'd decided he was right; we shouldn't be friends. I would ignore him to the best of my ability, cancel any plans I'd made with him, and never speak to him again. It was the most logical of the three. It made the most sense.

So why did it feel like a vice was squeezing my insides?

My teeth worried my bottom lip to the point I could taste blood. I shuddered.

_Oh, the irony... _

And I knew then that I had my answer. The revulsion of tasting my own blood made the decision for me. I could hide neither my fear, nor my revulsion. I would have to stay away from him.

~(~)~

The rest of the weekend passed quickly. Set in my decision, I went about my life as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

It wasn't as easy to live with my choice as I might have liked, however. I failed to finish my Macbeth essay because my mind constantly wandered back to how I would act around Edward when I saw him at school again. At dinner, I failed to hide my preoccupation from Charlie because I couldn't stop worrying about what would happen to him if something bad happened to me. When it was time for bed, even loud music couldn't lull me to sleep this time. I had to resort to dosing myself with unnecessary cough syrup sometime after midnight.

When Monday morning arrived, the only redeeming thing about it was the sun shining brightly outside. It was the ultimate counterpoint to my less than enthusiastic return to Forks High.

I had no idea what I was going to say to Edward during Biology. Worse than that, I worried he might be waiting for me at lunch again. Would he expect me to sit with him? Could I use that to my advantage? Surely it would be safe to have an honest conversation in the middle of a crowded cafeteria.

It took me all morning to psych myself up for the big talk I knew was coming. I had everything all planned out in my head when I stepped into the lunch room and realized...

He wasn't here. The Cullens weren't at school today.

A wave of relief washed over me, followed by a good dose of disappointment. It confused me, but I chalked it up to the desire to get this over with. I needed to give Edward notice that I was no longer able to go with him to Seattle this weekend. I wasn't looking forward to it, but it had to be done. Didn't it?

Doubt pricking my consciousness, I spent the majority of lunch and Biology telling myself over and over that I'd made the right decision. It was rare for me to second guess myself like this and I didn't like it one bit.

Ironically, an errant ray of sunshine crossed the lab table. It didn't take long for my brain to supply that— if my theory held any water —Edward probably couldn't go out in the sun, though that must have been limited to direct sunlight. Of course, the fact that he came out in the daytime at all only served to dismiss the vampire theory and I started doubting the fairness of my decision to stay away from him. Sure, he wasn't... human, but I certainly didn't think he was evil.

Near the end of class, my brain grew exhausted from running in circles again. I laid my head down and stared at his side of our shared table. I couldn't help but wonder where he was; what he was doing. I thought about how he often seemed to know what people around him were thinking.

Had he known it the moment I started looking into vampires? Was he somewhere laughing at me so much that he couldn't even face me? Or was he hiding? Or worse?

The idea made me shiver and I sat up. Opening my notebook, I started doodling, occasionally glancing out the window as if I'd find the answers I needed there in the forest. When class was over I looked down and recognized I'd been sketching out a single pair of eyes.

_His_ eyes.

The Cullens were a no-show on Tuesday as well, though I couldn't say I was surprised. It was sunny again, not a cloud in the sky. And like yesterday, I found I was unable to enjoy it the way I should have. The continued absences troubled me. Perhaps my theory that Edward had known I was looking into him had some truth to it? Perhaps the Cullens had left town altogether.

Not so suddenly, the vice-like feeling in my chest came back. Slowly, as the day wore on, I found I couldn't breathe. Fortunately at lunch, just when it became most suffocating, Jessica stabbed me in the ribs with her elbow and forced my body to inhale reflexively.

"Are you even listening to me, Bella?"

I shook my head and rubbed my side. "Sorry... what? I was trying to remember if I did an assignment or not."

She gasped happily. "Does that mean you're coming with us?"

"Coming? Where?"

She rolled her eyes. "To Port Angeles, silly! You should totally come. We could use your advice."

I smiled, grateful for the invitation and thinking it could be a good distraction. "Maybe."

Angela spoke up, albeit softly. "I'd really like your opinion. If you don't have anything else to do after school."

"I'll think about it. I would have to go home and ask Charlie, but..."

"Please... Please, please, please..." Jessica begged.

I laughed and pushed her shoulder to get her to stop. "Okay, fine. If Charlie's cool with it, I'll go."

Angela smiled and Jessica let out a delighted squeal before yammering on about all the stops we had to make tonight. Glancing back at the empty table where the Cullens formerly sat, I tried to put all thoughts of vampires and Edward Cullen behind me... at least for the rest of the day.

~(~)~

It had been such a long time since I'd spent any free time around girls my own age that — once Charlie had cleared it — I found myself invigorated by the idea of a girls' night out.

It was easy enough to forget all my troubles on the ride to Port Angeles, and easier still once we arrived in the picturesque town by the bay. While I tried to figure out what sort of dresses they were looking for, Jessica and Angela became more interested in my background. They were disbelieving that I'd never been to a dance yet myself, and I was unable to hold off their many questions about my life in Phoenix while we perused the racks of the one large department store in town.

"So you've never been on a date?" Jessica bellowed. "Ever?"

"No."

"But... why not?"

"Um," I paused, feeling uncomfortable. "Nobody ever asked me."

Jessica looked doubtful. "People ask you out here... and you say no."

I shrugged, almost missing Angela's quiet amendment. "Except for Tyler."

I spun to face her. "What does that mean?"

Angela's face was confused. "Well, aren't you going to prom with him?"

"What! Who told you that?"

Jessica sauntered up behind Angela with narrowed eyes. "Tyler told everyone he's taking you to prom."

I gaped; it was a good impression of a fish to be sure.

"I told you it wasn't true," Angela murmured.

Still shocked, Jessica pulled me along, moving us to another row of racks where the dresses were longer and fancier.

"Just so you know..." Jessica said conspiratorially. "That's the reason Lauren has it out for you."

"But he's only doing this because he feels guilty about the accident!" I exploded.

Angela attempted to be supportive. "Maybe if you just explain it to her, she'll leave you alone."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Maybe... or _maybe_ I'll just run Tyler over with my truck and call it even. Then he can go to prom with Lauren and we'll all be happy."

The girls snickered and moved me along with them, down the racks where they graciously turned the conversation back to the dance at hand and their own dates. I fumed silently while they made their selections and tried on the few dresses they'd liked.

Angela was done first and sat with me while Jessica modeled her top two choices. Providing feedback helped stem my temper and calm me, but all too soon the decision was made and we were checking out. I was back to feeling annoyed with Tyler again and, of course, thoughts of the accident he caused brought Edward back to the forefront of my conscious mind as well.

I wasn't very good company when Jessica and Angela wanted to take a stroll along the boardwalk after we'd dropped their purchases off in Jessica's car. Fortunately, not too far into our walk, we passed a book store and I was able to beg off, convincing Angela and Jessica to go on without me. They agreed, albeit hesitantly, and left me so I could browse in peace after we planned to meet for dinner together at a restaurant a few blocks away.

Not long into my visit to the book shop I realized I was in the wrong place. Every title on the shelves was geared toward tourists. Local guides, photographic almanacs of plants and wildlife, even locally inspired cookbooks, made up the bulk of their stock. There was a decent enough section on Washington history, as well as Native American culture, but little in the way of fiction or literature, and most of their choices in that department were mass market romances –the kind Renee liked to read.

The shopkeeper was nice, even when she noticed my disinterest in the titles on the shelf. She was friendly enough to inform me where the few other book stores in town were, one of them supposedly just a short walk away.

"It used to be a little new-agey, but I know they just changed owners recently. You could check it out." She shrugged and handed me a sheet of paper with a few directions on it.

I thanked her and left the store, debating briefly whether or not I should just meet up early with Angela and Jessica. In the end, my sour mood made me choose the more solitary route and I turned away from the waterfront and walked at a brisk pace in the direction I'd been told.

It was only when the tourist district was behind me that I noticed how dark it was getting. The sun hadn't quite set, but in the shadows of the taller buildings of this more industrial side of Port Angeles, it seemed later than it had only moments ago. I found the street I was looking for easily enough, but no book store. The few store fronts here were all closed up for the night anyway.

Cursing small-town U.S.A., I turned around and went back to the main road I'd come down. I looked at my list of addresses and decided to walk a few blocks and see if any of the streets listed were nearby before giving up and going back to the restaurant.

It took less than two blocks to figure out that I made a terrible mistake.

There were four of them.

They weren't much older than me, but they were obviously intoxicated, and obviously looking to have their fun at my expense.

Somehow I had managed to corner myself in an alleyway surrounded on three sides by rickety old warehouses. There was a small pathway between two buildings on one side, the route taken by two of the men when they'd herded me here.

Their taunting laughter barely registered against the sound of blood rushing through my ears, but I was ready to change that. It was flight or fight time, and since fleeing was no longer an option — I'd never make it around the two bigger ones and down the narrow walkway without tripping— I was ready to scream and use every ounce of self-defense I could remember. I wasn't going to go down easily.

Of course, they weren't going to make it easy for me to get away either and made that abundantly clear when they advanced on me. I ground out a surprisingly strong, "Don't touch me," when the leader grabbed my arm and pulled me against his body. His breath reeked of stale alcohol and beans. My stomach turned as I stepped back in preparation to knee him in the groin.

Tires squealed nearby, distracting me and causing the man to turn his vile breath from me. I used the moment to break his hold on my arm and push him away just as a car came flying up the alleyway. My attacker threw himself out of its path while I dove in the opposite direction. I thought to turn and run just as the car skidded to a halt, the passenger's door wide open in front of me.

"Get in!" a furious, but familiar voice roared.

I stumbled back a step. Away from the car. Away from my attackers.

One kind of fear vanished immediately. Another kind bloomed.

"Bella! Get in!" The car moved back with me as I retreated another step.

I hesitated, glancing between the men on the street—now standing shoulder to shoulder, looking ominous as ever—and the one in the car. Before I could make a decision, the driver's side door flew open.

"For the love of... Bella, please get in the car!"

I stared at him a moment, nodding dumbly and then watching as two of the men stumbled back in reaction to Edward's sudden appearance. He'd moved much faster than any ordinary human being. The other two men looked him up and down a moment. The leader, in his drunken state, seemed unaware of the danger he was in.

"Well, well, well... Who's this, pretty girl? This your pretty boyfriend?"

An inhuman growl sounded and the man stepped back. So did I, but this time it was into the passenger's seat of the car.

Both relief and anxiety flooded me as I closed the door securely behind me. I was safe, but completely unprepared to face Edward. He was immediately next to me, his own door closing with a slam. Before I even had time to exhale, we were moving, speeding backwards away from my would-be attackers. The car spun around and then we were racing through the streets of Port Angeles.

"Put your seatbelt on," he ordered.

I did as he asked, but only because he was speeding through the small town like a maniac. I just managed to engage the restraint when we took a sharp turn and then sped forward again. My heart pounded wildly as I watched the vague outline of buildings flying by until they were no more. The darkness both inside and outside the car grew oppressive.

Too nervous to look at him now that we were alone, I waited for my breathing to slow and asked the first thing that came to mind.

"Where are you taking me?" My voice sounded rough, as though I hadn't used it in a long time.

"Away." His voice a snarl.

I looked up at him reflexively. The rage in his features was plain to see and my heart leapt in dread.

"Away where?" I asked, barely whispering.

"Just... _away."_

The way he said the words caused my skin to break out into goose flesh. Before I had time to ask him anything else, he spoke again.

"Bella?" he asked. His voice was still rough, angry.

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?" Impossibly, he looked angrier now.

"No," I croaked, the truth of my words causing my voice to shake noticeably.

His teeth ground together. "They touched you." It wasn't a question. It also wasn't the reason I was tremulous.

"They didn't hurt me."

Edward looked at me sharply.

"They didn't hurt you? Are you...? Do you have any idea what they would have done to you if...if..." His breathing was ragged. His eyes flashed with a fierceness that left me shaking. "Bella, you cannot imagine the vile, disgusting, malevolent things they were–"

His words cut off abruptly and the car came to a sudden halt far off the side of the road. Clenching his eyes closed, he lowered his head to his hands and pulled his hair, hard.

"Distract me, please," he commanded.

"What?" I said, near tears.

"Talk about something mundane until I calm down."

My lips trembled and my eyes pooled with the evidence of my fear. I had no idea what to say and in my terror, my brain was refusing to cooperate with me.

"Please, Bella..."

I shook my head, as if to reorder my thoughts. It helped some.

"I... I... I'm going to run over Tyler Crowley with my truck tomorrow." The words were a rush.

When he didn't respond I chanced a glance at him. The line of his mouth was hard and his eyes remained tightly shut, his hands buried in his hair. I couldn't fathom what was happening, where he'd come from, or what he was thinking.

"Why?" he asked eventually.

I inhaled deeply, calming myself. "Uh, well, he's... he's telling everyone that he's taking me to prom because he thinks that's a good way to make amends for nearly killing me in January. You know, when he almost... well, you were there." I rolled my eyes at my own idiocy. "Anyway, he's obviously insane, so I figure if I threaten his life, too, then we'll be even and he can leave me alone."

Edward's lips quirked ever so slightly, but he didn't move otherwise.

"Keep going. Talk about something else."

"Um... well, my mom is threatening my dad with a visit if he doesn't start paying for high-speed internet next month. I feel bad because it's my fault. I tried to use the dial-internet connection as an excuse for not emailing her more often, even though that had nothing to do with it."

"Why haven't you been emailing her?" His voice sounded better, more himself. He took a breath and released his hair, though his eyes remained closed.

"I, um, I've been pre-occupied lately and I didn't want to talk about it. Not to mention I had a busy weekend."

I winced, remembering how I spent Saturday in La Push. Would he recall that? Would he ask?

He didn't. The car remained silent except for the sound of my breathing and the rain falling lightly outside. Eventually, Edward opened his eyes and turned his head, regarding me with a much more calm expression.

"Are you better?" I whispered.

"Not entirely."

He sighed and sat up, leaning his head back against the seat. He stared at the ceiling, no sign of any emotion on his face. It was completely blank and very unnerving.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Sometimes I have a problem with my temper, Bella. What happened, what nearly happened, it pushed me to my limits tonight. I keep telling myself it wouldn't help anyone to go back to town and hunt down those..." His voice fell away and he looked out his window, away from me. "I should remove body parts for what they would have done to you."

My heart lurched. "Please don't."

The sound of my quiet whisper seemed to echo in the small car and Edward turned his head to me, his expression confused and curious.

"Please don't hurt anyone," I reiterated. "It… it's not..." I shook my head. "You just can't... you _shouldn't_."

Tears pricked my eyes as Edward's gaze hardened, burning through me. "How can you possibly show them a grain of compassion after–"

His voice cut off sharply, his mouth frozen in place, slightly parted. He blinked and then searched my face for a long moment. My galloping heart raced harder.

"I see."

My palms grew moist even as I noted his eyes were lighter than before. The ebony was gone, slowly returning to the golden color I often found hypnotic. After a long moment they stared back at me full of concern and what looked like surrender.

"You've finally heeded my warnings, haven't you? You've seen me for what I am."

I was stunned. How did he know?

"How...?"

"You're afraid of me. Not those _men..._ but me. I can see it now."

I shook my head and he smiled weakly, bitterly, as he swallowed down the anger that had sparked at the mention of my attackers.

"Edward..."

"It's okay, Bella, I don't blame you. Though, I'd like to know what changed."

I frowned, my voice a whisper. "I... I don't know."

The bitter smile returned. "Yes, you do. Tell me."

A single tear fell down my cheek.

"Tell me," he urged.

"I know you're not... human."

His reply took some time. "And what makes you say that?"

"You... you're impossibly fast," I whispered. "...and unbelievably strong. You're eyes change colors, especially when you're upset." I paused, picking at my cuticles. "You always seem to know what people are thinking, and... I've never once seen you eat or drink anything. You don't come out in the sunlight, and just now, tonight... you growled at those men."

"You heard that?"

I nodded, my heart pounding as I awaited his reply.

"You are much more observant than I realized."

We sat in silence a while.

"Tell me this, Isabella. Please? What finally drove fear into your heart, where my warnings to you could not?"

I took a measured breath. "I think... it's because I figured out what you are."

"And do you have a name for what I am? If I am not human?"

Edward waited, his hands tight around the steering wheel, though otherwise the picture of calm.

"I... I found a few names, actually."

"Go ahead."

"Well, um, undead... blood-drinker..." My voice fell to a whisper, "Vampire."

A crack resounded through the car and while I could not bring myself to look at his face, I saw his knuckles straining where they still held the steering wheel. When he spoke again, I found his unnaturally calm tone disturbing.

"And you believe this? You believe that's what I am."

"I don't know."

"But you know enough to make you afraid." He was quiet a long moment. "May I ask you one more question?"

I nodded my assent.

"How is it you came to this conclusion? What convinced you?"

The carefulness of his voice set off a warning bell inside my head. Would there be consequences if I revealed how one of the Quileute boys had told me their legends? Somehow I mustered a courageous reply; a diversion if I were being honest.

"Does it matter?"

He chuckled lowly. "I think it does."

I met his gaze hesitantly. "It doesn't have to. Just tell me I'm wrong."

He smiled sadly, resigned. "You're wrong."

"You're lying."

He shook his head, the grief on his too perfect face confusing.

"And you were right. It doesn't matter. You're afraid of me now. As you should be."

"What does that mean?" I asked, nervous butterflies flitting in my stomach.

"It means... I'll take you home and we can forget we ever had this conversation. It will be as if I never existed."

I gasped. "No!"

My response surprised both of us. He stared at me doubtfully before responding.

"It's the best thing for you. Surely you can see that now. Surely you don't wish to live this way? In fear."

I turned my face from him. "No, of I don't want to live in fear... but it's not necessarily _you _that I'm afraid of."

He waited for me to continue.

"It's the unknown that makes it scary. If only you'd explain it to me." My eyes were pleading. His were resigned.

"I'm not going to give you the ammunition to ignore your instincts. You should run from me, Bella. Run as far as you can and never look back."

"I can't do that."

"Then I'll do it for you. It's the only way. The right way."

A desperate feeling sprouted in my gut. "Says who? Do you think I'll just be able to forget? That I'll never think about you again? Or wonder where you are?"

"You'll forget in time."

"No. I won't."

"You're human, you will move on..."

His words stung. It was worse than the suffocating feeling I'd felt before, and it made me instantly rebellious.

"No!" I shouted. "You don't move on from something like this! You don't forget someone who's done the things you've done, who's made you feel the things I've felt! Yes, I'm scared. Yes, I have serious concerns, but I..." I shook my head, a lightning bolt of realization hitting me hard and fast. "I'm more afraid of never seeing you again than of dying."

Edward's face, which had been the picture of shock, was now clearly pained. His golden eyes were wild and as terrified as my own before he turned his face from me.

"Don't say that. _Never_ say that!"

His voice was so sad, and yet so angry, that the tears finally overwhelmed me and streaked silently down my face.

"Why?" I whispered.

He shook his head. "Bella... Don't you see? I'm dangerous. You must grasp that. I'm more dangerous to you than you can possibly imagine. And _this_... whatever this is, cannot end well. It's wrong and... unnatural. I don't want to hear that you feel that way about me."

That, more than anything, cut through me like a knife. He didn't want me.

I blinked and my tears suddenly annoyed me. I sniffled and wiped them away furiously.

"Are you crying?" Edward asked, his voice appalled.

I kept my face from him. "No."

He sighed and reached out with his hand. I felt a brush against the hair hiding my face before I saw his arm drop beside him. "I'm sorry..." he whispered.

I didn't speak to him again. He didn't want me. End of story.

Ignoring his apology, I looked up and out through the windshield. The darkness enveloped me.

"I should get you back," he said at some point. "Angela and Jessica will be worried."

I nodded in agreement and then stopped short wondering how he'd known that Angela and Jessica were waiting for me. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. It was just the sort of thing I'd normally call him on, but when I opened my mouth to form the question this time, it died in my throat. I had no more energy for another go round tonight.

To be honest, I didn't think I could take anymore hurtful truths – not without shattering into a million tiny pieces.

~(~)~

The days that followed that dark night were nightmarish. Sleep evaded me no matter what I tried. But then, so did Edward.

He wasn't in school the next day, or the day after that. His siblings returned, but he remained absent. Rumors circled. About me. About him. _Us._ I made it as clear as possible that there was no _us_— I couldn't even think about an _us_—but that didn't stop Jessica Stanley from telling the entire school that Edward and I been discovered together in Port Angeles.

_If they only knew what a disaster it had been..._

The gossip spread despite the fact that the story was nowhere near as interesting as it was being made out to be, and both days I had to answer questions about the whereabouts of a boy I would probably never see again. The sick feeling that accompanied that thought followed me wherever I went. It made it impossible to eat — especially at lunch.

They were there, of course, their inhuman beauty and ocher eyes identical to Edward's. They never looked at me, never met my gaze when I glanced their way. Yet, I could feel them watching me. Almost as if they were waiting for something. Did they know I knew? Had Edward told them?

It was the first time I'd bothered to be concerned about the presence of the other Cullens. Even in my initial panic after hearing Jacob's legends, I'd only ever wondered what it had to do with Edward, and if it was true, what Edward wanted with me. It wasn't until now, until he was no longer present, that I felt any kind of unease around them. Of course, I hadn't known what they were before. And now that I did, I felt exposed being here without Edward. Exposed and somehow, unprotected.

It left me wondering what I'd ever been afraid of, wondering if I hadn't been afraid to begin with, would things have turned out differently?

I had lots of time to ponder that thought in biology. Mr. Banner showed an educational film in lieu of actually teaching both Wednesday and Thursday. Sitting in the darkness, alone at our table, I found myself wavering between wishing for a second chance to talk to him and despairing that it wouldn't matter anyway.

_He didn't want me. _

To add insult to injury, Mr. Banner stopped me on my way out of biology on Thursday to ask if I would be speaking to Edward before the next the class. It seemed that even the faculty was aware of the rumors and I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes at how easily he assumed the stories were true. Instead, I answered his question with a simple no.

Mr. Banner looked at me doubtfully. "Well, if that changes, will you let him know we have a quiz on the film we watched? He can study for it using the exploration questions at the end of chapter sixteen."

"Oh. I, um..."

"And Miss Swan?"

"Yes?"

"If he's not planning on gracing us with his presence the rest of the week, it would behoove you to give him a copy of the study guide for Monday's lab. Otherwise he'll slow you down considerably."

My cheeks burned as he handed me the aforementioned study guide. I took it robotically, doubting there was any need for it. Of course, once it was in my possession, I couldn't help but think of ways I might get it to him, use it as an excuse to see him again. I was a glutton for punishment.

Gym was a blur. Class was over long before I was able to put the study guide or Edward Cullen out of my mind. I dressed slowly afterwards, staring at the folded sheet of 8½ by 11 inch paper peeking out of my backpack. I should have been mortified Banner would assume I was in the position to perform this task. I should have been angry, but instead I found myself imagining the possibility of using Banner's assumption to my advantage.

Sadly, I couldn't come up with a single viable idea. Even if I was brazen enough to do so, I didn't have the Cullens' phone number to call, nor did I know where their house was to stop by. I could probably ask Charlie for the information, but I would have to explain the reason why.

If I didn't care at all about seeing Edward again, I could just send the sheet home with one of his siblings. That would involve approaching them, however, and they were usually one of the first ones out of the parking lot as soon as the bell rang. With as much time as I'd wasted in the locker-room, I seriously doubted whether or not they would still be around.

I put my shoes on and laced them back up, reminding myself it was pointless anyway. He didn't want me.

The rain was falling softly when I left the building to go home for the day. I made it not two steps, pulling my hood up over my head as I went, when the doors of building three swung open and out walked Alice Cullen. When her eyes met mine momentarily I felt my stomach flip flop and I tripped over my own feet. When I caught my balance and glanced up again, she had stopped walking and was looking through her bag for something.

Spontaneity had never been my strong suit, but in that moment, I just went with it. Picking up my pace, I closed the distance between Alice and me, reaching around to unzip my own bag.

"Excuse me... um, Alice?" I called after her.

She pulled a cell phone out of her bag and then turned around, her eyes shining gleefully. "Hi, Bella."

I stopped short, taken aback by both her friendliness and familiarity. "Um, hi."

She smiled and adjusted her bag over her shoulder. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

I nodded and took a deep breath, ignoring how nervous I was, and how oddly comforting I found her presence.

"Yeah, um, Mr. Banner gave me a study guide to give to, um... Edward." I felt strange saying his name to her. "I don't know why he gave it to _me._ I guess maybe because we're lab partners?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "That makes sense. Did you need me to pass it along to my brother?"

"If you don't mind. I don't want him to get in trouble." I blushed, frowning as the ridiculousness of my statement hit me. Like any of the Cullens ever got in trouble.

Alice smiled. "That's so sweet. I'll be sure he gets the message."

I nodded, smiling weakly back at her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. It was really good talking with you."

"Uhh... you too," I said softly.

"I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow." She looked undeniably ecstatic before turning to leave.

I blinked and watched her go, throwing caution to the wind and calling after her again.

"Hey, Alice?"

I jogged forward a step, closing the distance between us a little. She turned around, her expression more wary, but curious.

I took a deep breath. "Is he...? Is he all right? Edward, I mean. Will he be back soon? To school?"

I groaned internally. I was an idiot. Alice would know just how pathetic I was now.

Her compassionate expression, however, belayed my thoughts.

"I wish I could say. Things are still a little up in the air." She seemed to stare off passed my shoulder for a moment before looking back at me. "Why do you ask?"

My face turned bright red. I hoped that wasn't a problem for her, all that blood rushing to my cheeks. My pulse was thudding loudly too.

"Well, um, I've been... worried."

"About Edward?"

My face flamed hotter.

"Yeah, um... see the thing is, I don't know if he told you, but he sort of helped me out of a sticky situation the other night and I think I was a bit... ungrateful. I didn't thank him properly, in fact, I actually freaked out a little bit, and he didn't deserve that. No matter what he says."

Alice nodded, her expression sympathetic.

"So, yeah... I'd like a chance to apologize, but well... he hasn't been here. And I know it's completely vain of me to think his absence the last couple days has anything to do with me, but–"

"Actually, _Isabella..._ his absence has everything to do with you."

I froze in place, the harsh, steely voice unfamiliar to me. Looking from Alice to the beautiful figure not more than four feet away, I shuddered. Rosalie Hale towered above both of us.

I hadn't even heard her approach.

"Rose, be kind," Alice warned.

"Kind? Kind!?" Rosalie fumed at Alice before turning her icy glare back on me. "Kind would be going back wherever you came from and leaving my brother the hell alone."

"Rose!"

"No! She needs to know." Her fierce eyes turned upon me. "You are the reason Edward's not here. You're the reason our family is in shambles!"

"Rosalie, that's enough!" Suddenly Alice had moved between us. "Leave her alone or there will be consequences."

They glared at each other while I chewed nervously on my lip and clung to the strap of my backpack like it could somehow protect me. The tense standoff ended with one last hiss from Rosalie.

"I'll leave her alone just as soon as _you_ do."

She turned and stormed off, her gait still graceful and her hair flying regally behind her. When Alice turned back to me with apologetic eyes and a whisper soft apology, I was shaking slightly and biting my lip to keep from hyperventilating.

"I'm so sorry about that, Bella. There's no excuse for her," Alice sighed.

I nodded dumbly.

"Don't worry," she comforted. "Everything will work out." She lowered her voice even more and leaned towards me. "It's becoming much clearer now."

My brow wrinkled in confusion and consternation as Alice walked away. I stood frozen to the spot until she and the rest of the Cullens were long gone. Fortunately, most of the student body was gone as well.

By the time I got to my truck, I was holding my breath, fearful that they would come out in sobs. My hands shook as I tried to get the key in the ignition and I dropped them twice before I forced myself to close my eyes and count to fifty in my head. By some miracle I was able to pull myself together long enough to drive home, but only just.

As soon as I saw that Charlie was still at work and the street was otherwise abandoned, all bets were off. A deep, body wracking sob escaped me the moment I cut the engine. Rosalie's harsh words tore at me, allowing everything I'd been holding in all week to break loose. Fear, confusion, self-doubt, regret, disappointment, guilt and self-flagellation crashed over me as the waves crash against the shore. My tears, in turn, took their cue from the rain drops that fell heavily against the windshield. Now that the storm had broken inside me, it was relentless.

I cried for the sun that never shone. I cried for the mother I'd left behind. I cried for the father I'd only just begun to know. I cried for loss of my innocence. I cried for a world no longer void of monsters and magic and impossibility. I cried for Edward. For all the things I said to him born out of fear, and for all the things he'd said in return.

If only I hadn't been afraid.

"Bella?"

I screamed and jumped in my seat, twisting oddly and hitting my knee on the steering wheel in the process. My heart thumped wildly against my chest as I blinked through the rain-slicked window.

"Edward?" My voice was rough, breathless.

He put his hands up in surrender. "It's me. Don't be frightened. I'm not here to hurt you, I just..." He lowered his hands. "I came to apologize."

I blinked and wiped the tears out of my eyes with my hands.

"What for?" I sniffled.

"For everything. For my sister." He stepped closer and even through the rain and the glass I could see the angry scowl beneath his wet hair. "Rosalie had no right to speak to you the way she did."

"How did you hear about that?" I asked weakly.

"I was nearby. In the woods outside. I thought it was best that way."

"I thought you left town or something," I exclaimed, holding one hand over my still pounding heart. He stepped right up to the glass.

"I was going to. I couldn't get that far."

Of course, he couldn't leave his family. Despite not being human, they were obviously close.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to cause any problems for you and your family."

Though it was difficult to see through the rapidly fogging window, his face grew horrified.

"You haven't caused any of our problems! Rosalie was wrong. You've done nothing wrong, Bella. None of this is your fault." His muffled voice was pained. "It's mine alone. I'm so very sorry. For everything. For my sister's behavior and for my own."

I didn't quite wait for him to finish his apology before attempting to wrench open the door. It swung slowly until Edward guessed my intent and helped. I wasn't quite ready for the sudden ease of the movement, and nearly toppled out of the truck.

"Whoa..."

"Easy," he replied, reaching out to stop me from falling like he was prone to do.

His hands found purchase around my waist and mine instinctively grabbed for his biceps. I gasped at the sudden jolt that ran through me and nearly toppled over again when he let go of me like I'd electrocuted him.

Fortunately I hadn't, and before I could fall, I was back in his capable grasp once more. Not that he looked pleased about that.

"Agh! I can't do anything right," he growled.

I blushed, my hands still holding his arms. "No, it's my fault. I'm sorry. I'm such a klutz."

He shook his head and gazed off into the distance as we stood in the pouring rain, still holding onto each other. I watched his face carefully, surprised by the level of relief I felt looking upon his chiseled features. Despite his troubled expression, I could barely remember why I'd been so upset.

His eyes eventually met mine and he sighed. "Are you all right?"

I sniffled again before answering, my nose still stuffy from before. "I'm fine."

I smiled weakly to assure him.

He removed one hand from my waist and ran his cold thumb over the apple of my cheek.

"You weren't fine. You were weeping."

My face grew warm in embarrassment. "I'm not now."

His brow wrinkled together. "Why is that?"

I smiled shyly. "I guess... because you're here."

His eyes widened. "I don't understand."

I shrugged. "That's okay. I'm just glad that..." My voice faltered and I looked away as the words that had been echoing in my head for two days returned.

_He doesn't want you._

"Never mind."

He groaned. "It's unbearable when you do that."

My shoes were suddenly fascinating. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

His chilled fingers found my face again, lifting my chin until I met his eyes.

"Don't apologize. I didn't mean it like that. I just want to know what you're thinking." He paused and then sighed. "I'm not used to being unable to tell."

"No?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm usually able to tell quite clearly what people are thinking."

I smiled halfway. "I had noticed that."

"I'm not surprised." He chuckled softly.

"But not me?" I pushed.

"No. I can't hear a thing that's going on inside that beautiful head of yours."

My cheeks flushed. "That's probably a good thing."

His head tilted to the side, his eyes searching mine while the rain continued to beat down. "I don't know... it might have saved us some trouble."

"How so?" I asked, ignoring the chill setting in.

He glanced away. "I heard you talking to Alice."

I blushed deeply. "Oh."

"Have you really been worried about _me_?"

I nodded slowly.

"Why?"

Another blush. "I thought... I was worried you were trying to avoid me. I didn't want you to have to do that."

He smiled sadly. "I didn't want school to be uncomfortable for you."

I nodded. "I thought it might be because of all that stuff I said the other night."

He looked down. "Well, there is that, but no... I just didn't want you to have to be afraid when you went to school."

"I wasn't, I'm not. Not for the reasons you're thinking."

"Then why?"

I shook my head. "You don't want to hear the answer."

"Yes, I do."

"No. You don't." I closed my eyes. "You told me you don't."

He was quiet a moment, perhaps trying to unravel my cryptic remark. It didn't take him long.

"Bella..."

I shivered at the tenderness in his voice. He stepped closer and my body shook again. I heard a low groan and then his hands were gone from my waist.

"We should get you inside and dried off before you catch your death."

I was taken aback when he offered his hand.

"It will be cold," he said sounding shy. "Always cold..."

I took it without hesitation. "I don't mind the cold so much anymore."

He seemed to watch in wonder as our fingers wove together. I couldn't tell who moved first to initiate the action, but my breath hitched at the sensation.

"Do you feel it, too?" he whispered, still staring.

I nodded, and then shivered. He chuckled and tugged gently on our joined hands.

"Let's get you inside."

Before I could quite process what was happening, what had changed between us, we were standing on Charlie's small porch. Edward reached behind me and produced the key to front door, handing it to me.

"How did you–?"

He shrugged. "I saw you use it when I dropped you off after school last week."

"Oh."

I shivered again, though I wasn't sure if it was from the cold. He pulled his hand from mine anyway. A small protest escaped my lips before I could stop it. He smiled.

"You need to go inside and get warm. You'll catch cold."

"That's an old wives' tale."

His grin turned impish. "Just the same, let's not tempt fate."

I laughed quietly and then looked up at him, my eyes full of a thousand questions for him.

"Stay?" I asked nervously.

He shook his head. "Not now."

My stomach dipped in disappointment.

"May I call you this evening?" he asked unexpectedly.

My heart soared.

"Y- yes."

His smile was blinding.

Mine was probably blue, but just as pleased. Then I shook again from cold and we both laughed.

"Go get warm, Isabella."

I liked the sound of my formal name on his lips and agreed immediately.

"Are you sure you won't come in?" I asked once I was standing just inside the threshold.

"No, thank you. Your father might find it curious I had no mode of transportation with me."

I looked up and down the street, only then realizing his car wasn't here.

"How...?"

"I ran."

"In the rain?"

"I do it all the time. I'll show you sometime."

"Really?"

His eyes glimmered. "I promise."

"And you'll be back tonight?"

"I promise."

I smiled. "Good."

We stared at one another a long time before he tucked a damp strand of hair behind my ear and stepped back.

"Until this evening, Bella."

I nodded, my heart quickening with anticipation instead of fear or anxiety for once.

"Until then," I whispered.

He dipped his chin and walked backwards down the porch steps, refusing to take his eyes from mine.

I waved and began to close the door when suddenly he called out.

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"You should probably warn Charlie that I'm coming over."

My mouth fell open. "Ch- Charlie?"

"He will be home, won't he?"

I nodded, dumbly and he laughed.

"I promise to be on my best behavior."

I made a choking sound and then he was laughing harder, turning towards the woods behind our house with a wink.

"See you later, Bella."

As I closed the door and looked around my father's small house, I was overcome by fear once again — a very different, very new kind of fear.

* * *

><p><strong><em><strong>AN: So, I meant this to turn out a bit darker, but... I just couldn't do it! I'm a sap, what can I say? Also, I was pretty interested in re-writing the meeting between Charlie & Edward, so a second chapter has been added. Enjoy! **_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**There has been a lot of interest in what happened **_**after**_** Edward asked to call on Bella. So at long last, here is the continuation of FEAR.  
><strong>_

_**(PS: I highly suggest you adjust the story width to 3/4.) **_

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 2:<p>

I made Grandma Swan's stroganoff for dinner. It should have been Charlie's first clue something was up, but we weren't used to each other yet. He didn't see it coming.

"A boy?" His face was tight, his cheeks a bit ruddy.

"Well, yeah," I said, shrugging and handing him another beer. It might as well have been butter. He was the bread, of course.

He bristled at the butter/beer, then frowned. "Thought you didn't really do the whole boy thing."

I raised an eyebrow. Inside I was laughing. _I don't do the "boy" thing, Dad. Apparently, I do the _vampire_ thing. _

I had to hide my cringe. The thought of vampires still disturbed me. I wondered again about the missing hiker; remembered what Edward had said about those men in Port Angeles. Could I trust Jacob's legends?

"_They claimed they didn't hunt humans. They supposedly were somehow able to prey on animals instead."_

Charlie popped the tab of his beer, startling me a bit. He drank, swallowed, and looked back up at me. He was waiting for me to answer him, I realized.

I sighed. "It's no big deal. We're lab partners."

A pause. My face flushed. He set his beer down. "So . . . he's coming over to do homework then?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, thinking suddenly of the movie Edward had missed. There was a quiz Mr. Banner said Edward could study for. "Edward missed a couple days of school this week."

"Well, that's not surprising." My father said this with no malice, picking up his fork again.

"It's not?" I asked.

He shook his head and tucked back into his stroganoff. Before he shoved it into his mouth, he said, "Nah. The doctor's always taking them here and there. They go camping almost every other weekend, 'specially when the weather's nice."

"It's been raining," I said without thinking. I could have slapped myself.

Fortunately, Charlie seemed unconcerned, and amused. "It rains all the time here, Bells."

"I know," I said, my hair still wet from the episode with Edward in the driveway. I'd towel dried it and thrown it up into a messy bun after I'd changed out of my sodden clothes. I had been a bit panicked about telling Charlie there was someone coming over, and realized I didn't know when either he, or our impending guest was actually going to show up.

I glanced at the phone again. Would Edward call first? I hoped so, but wasn't sure. He had a habit of surprising me.

"I'm going to go get my notes together if that's okay," I said, taking my glass and salad bowl from the table. I'd already rinsed my plate when I got up to get Charlie another beer. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice I was rushing.

He glanced at me, mouth full. There was a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but he nodded.

"Thanks, Dad." I smiled and decided I would sit with him longer tomorrow.

Upstairs, I brushed my teeth and then my hair. I fixed my bun so it looked like it was intentionally messy, and made sure there was a piece or two loose was around my face. I debated changing clothes again, but held off. I didn't want my dad to get suspicious. At the same time, I wanted to look nice. This felt important somehow. Like it was the first step toward something significant.

I shivered, forcing myself to dismiss the idea for now, and checked the window for any sign of him. It was dark already and the rain was still pounding so it was hard to tell. I had just begun to wonder if he wasn't coming when the doorbell rang.

I jumped, my heart racing, and shouted, "I'll get it!" as I gave one last glance at the mirror and grabbed for my biology notebook on my desk.

Charlie's chair slid against the floor downstairs. "Don't hurt yourself, kid. I got it."

His plate clattered in the sink just before I raced down the stairs. He looked amused when I appeared at the bottom slightly out of breath.

"I told you I'd get it," he said.

I flushed. "I was already on my way down."

"Uh-huh." He pulled a face, his cop face, and walked past me, heading down the hall.

"Dad."

"Get a grip, Bells." He gave me a dismissive glance.

I huffed and looked around his shoulder to the front door. The porch light was on and I could see a hint of bronze through the glass. I held my breath as Charlie reached for the handle.

He glanced back at me, raising an eyebrow.

"Just open the door," I said, joining him with my notebook in hand.

He chuckled and did as I asked. "Hey there, Edmund!"

_Oh. My. God. _

"Hello, sir," Edward said, shifting his backpack on his shoulder and smiling politely. "It's nice to officially meet you."

Charlie opened the door wider and stood aside to let him in. "Same to you. Bella's told me so much about you."

I was going to kill him.

Edward's gaze flicked to mine, amused but a bit wary. "All good things, I hope."

I nodded, fighting a blush as Charlie chuckled. "Unless you count the part about you ditching school, then yes."

Edward's smile turned appropriately embarrassed when he looked back at my dad. "Yeah, I had a rough couple days. But I'm feeling better now."

I sucked in a breath. Had he really been half as miserable as I'd been the last few days?

My dad shut the door and clapped Edward on the shoulder. "Well, come on in. You and Bella can set up in the kitchen. I'll keep out of your way."

This was directed at me, but I wasn't sure I believed him. I shot him a warning glance as I turned and gestured down the hall. "It's in here."

I felt self-conscious once we arrived at our destination. It was obvious we'd just eaten. The pot of stroganoff was still on the stove. Charlie's plate and mine were in the sink, his beer can beside it. I rushed to wipe down the table while my dad picked up his beer.

"Can we get you anything to drink, Edmund?"

"It's Edward, Dad," I said, swiping the last of the crumbs away.

"Oh, sorry. Can we get you anything, Ed_ward_?" He held up his beer. A joke or a test, I wasn't sure which.

Edward shook his head, nonplussed. "No, thank you, I'm fine."

Charlie nodded. "Good man. How about some water or a Coke?"

I met Edward's gaze briefly, wondering what he'd do. He grinned and looked back at my dad. "I appreciate it, but I'm okay. I had something to drink on the way over."

There was a glint in his eye that made me shiver even as Charlie nodded and said, "All righty, I'll just be in the living room then."

"Sounds good, sir."

I held my breath until my dad was gone. Edward and I waited, a pair of statues, while we listened for him to turn on the television. When his favorite chair creaked, I finally looked back at my guest.

Any words I might have said washed away in a slow, shaky exhale. He was so startlingly beautiful. His eyes, now even lighter than they'd been that afternoon in the driveway, burned into mine.

"Good evening, Isabella," he said.

My heart was pounding. I had to force the words. "Hi."

Okay, it was just one word.

He smiled. "Your father is a nice man. Very hospitable."

I nearly groaned. "Jeez, I'm so sorry about that. Please forgive him."

Edward chuckled and went to the table, placing his backpack on top before removing his jacket and gloves. He had, of course, changed clothes too—into dark-wash jeans and a plaid button-down worn over a light gray T-shirt that hugged his chest.

"There's nothing to forgive," he said as I tried not to ogle him. "He was just being a good father."

"That's debatable."

He grew suddenly serious. "No, he loves you very much."

I swallowed, uncomfortable in more ways than one. "Yeah, Charlie's great."

Edward tilted his head to one side, clearly trying to figure something out. I avoided making eye contact.

"Would you . . . like to sit?" I asked.

"Of course." He startled me by moving around the table and pulling my chair out for me. "Ladies first," he murmured.

"Oh, um, thanks," I said, grabbing my biology notebook off the counter.

He moved back to his side once I was seated and joined me. It felt like the fabric of reality had ripped, seeing him—perfect hair, chiseled jaw, mesmerizing eyes—sitting at Charlie's old table with Renee's faded yellow cabinets behind him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's odd to have you here."

His brow crinkled, and I realized I must have been making a face. "Did you . . . change your mind since this afternoon?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, not at all. It's just surreal, I guess."

He seemed suddenly sad. "I can imagine. This whole thing must seem surreal."

"Sometimes," I said. "It's like a dream."

"More like a nightmare, don't you think?"

"No. Although . . ."

"What?"

"I've had a few of those, too," I said, honestly.

He winced. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't be. Just talk to me, please. I still have so many questions."

His lips quirked. "Of course you do."

I glanced toward the living room. Charlie had turned the volume down on the television.

Edward coughed and slid his backpack toward him. I watched, confused as he took out our biology book, a notebook, and two pencils.

"How did you . . ." I started to ask, but then laughed. "Of course you knew."

His mouth curled into a half smile. "I have my ways."

I couldn't help smiling back. "Will you tell me about them?"

He froze for a moment, then seemed to catch himself and nodded. "Yes."

I propped my elbows on the table expectantly.

"Not now though. Not yet."

"Why not?" I asked, feeling a familiar flare of irritation.

He gazed at me, face unreadable, then lowered his voice. "In part, because your father's listening. And, in part, because I'm not ready for you to send me away."

I was sure all the air had been sucked from the room. "Why would I send you away?" I whispered.

He shook his head. "Later. Open your notebook. We should at least pretend to study."

I let out a frustrated breath. What could be awful enough that I'd send him away now? I knew what he was, yet I'd asked him to stay. I'd made it clear I felt safer when he was near. What could he tell me that would change things between us yet again?

I pondered the possibilities as I flipped through my biology notes. Edward flipped the textbook open, making a loud _thud_ on the linoleum surface.

"So tell me what I missed," he said, his voice uncharacteristically loud. I glanced at him in question and he tilted his head toward the hallway. A moment later the television volume went up.

At my incredulous face, Edward winked. My stomach did a triple flip but I wasn't entirely distracted this time.

"I really need you to explain how you"—I gestured to the book between us—"_do_ that?"

He shrugged again. "Sometimes it's just heightened senses. In this case though, it was Alice."

I blinked. "Alice. What about Alice?"

"She warned me you might opt to tell your father that I was coming over to study."

"And how did she know that?"

"It's . . . a gift she has."

I frowned. "So you're saying she just guessed that's what I would say?"

"More like she predicated it."

"And does she predict things often? With such accuracy?"

"Yes," he said, but then his expression tightened. "Not always."

"Wait . . . which is it?"

"Both."

I stared at him, trying not to grow impatient. "You're being very cryptic, you know."

He sighed. "Yes, I know. It's hard to change old habits."

I wanted to push,but he seemed to be locked in some kind of internal battle. I guessed that his decision would change everything for him. Maybe for both of us.

"You can trust me, Edward," I said, and lowered my folded hands to the table.

He followed the movement with his intense gaze, and I uncurled my fingers, entreating him. Slowly, as if it were causing him great pain, he slid one hand across the table.

"I know. I'm just not sure it's right for me to do so," he murmured. He brushed my fingertips with his, so light, I barely felt it.

"Why not?"

He shook his head and slid his hand back. "How can you ask that? Three days ago you were terrified of me. Today, you were terrified of my sister."

"I was not."

"Yes, you were."

Tears pricked my eyes. "I was only afraid because you weren't there, and because Rosalie clearly hates me."

Edward frowned and shook his head. "What do you mean you were afraid because I _wasn't _there?"

I blushed, suddenly finding our textbook interesting. "You make me feel"—I shrugged, trying to act like it hadn't been a life altering realization—"safe."

He snorted. "If that's the case, then there is something seriously wrong with you, Bella."

I glanced up, glaring at him. "You've come to my rescue how many times now?"

"Three," he said. "But I've come close to killing you just as often. More, even."

I shook my head. "You're wrong, it's four times. And I don't believe that."

"I'm sorry, but no, it was three. And I wish you would believe it. I was only just able to stop myself."

"No, four." I ticked them off on my fingers. "Tyler's van. Last week after blood typing. Monday in Port Angeles. And then today."

"Today?"

"Yes, today."

"You weren't in any danger today."

"But you came to my rescue all the same."

That stopped him. He became eerily still, staring at me. I wanted to look away but I was trapped in his gaze.

Charlie's recliner creaked, but still I was caught. Even when my father's footsteps sounded in the hall, I had a hard time looking away.

Edward cleared his throat and picked up his pencil. He flipped to a new page in his notebook and I watched entranced as his hand flew over the paper, so quick it was a blur, before he slowed and began murmuring.

"The discovery of . . . the genetic role of DNA began in . . . nineteen-twenty-eigh—"

"How's it going, kids?"

I was still staring at Edward who glanced up and offered my dad a smile before he finished whatever he was writing. "Pretty good."

I looked down at my own notebook, realizing it wasn't even open.

"Bella?"

"Yeah, Dad?" I said, flipping it to a random page.

"You okay?"

"Yep. Doing fine."

He was quiet for a moment. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head.

Edward glanced up again. "She's very patient. I'm a little slow making notes."

I almost laughed. _Slow?_ Yeah, right.

"You have very good penmanship."

"Oh, yeah, um." Edward appeared chagrined. "My parents thought it was important."

Charlie hummed. "They're good people, your folks."

"Yes, they are."

"You and your siblings, too. What I've seen anyway."

I turned to see my father's expression. He had his cop face on, but it was more thoughtful than inquisitive.

From the corner of my eye I saw Edward shift in his seat. "We try. I was speaking of my birth parents, though."

Charlie seemed surprised. So was I. "Oh." He glanced at me briefly and then said, "May I ask what happened?"

"Yes, of course. They died when I was still a boy."

I knew this already—he'd told me the same story when he'd driven me home from school after the blood-typing disaster—but realized now that there must be more to the story. The short version was enough for my father, however.

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

Edward shrugged. "It was a long time ago. And it's not like I'm lacking in family now."

Charlie smiled wryly. "No, you're not." He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. "Well, I'm sorry for interrupting. I'll let you guys get back to it."

"It's no trouble, sir."

"Thanks, Dad."

He nodded and made his way back to the living room.

Silence.

"How old were you?" I asked at last. "When your real parents died?"

Edward met my gaze slowly. "Seventeen."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Bella. It was a very long time ago."

"How long?" I asked, regretting it almost immediately.

Edward just smiled though. "1918."

_Nineteen-eighteen. Nearly a century ago._ I let that sink in.

"Is that better or worse than you were you imagining?" he asked when I stayed silent.

I shrugged and looked at the faded table top. "I don't know. I suppose that, hypothetically, I knew it could have been hundreds of years, maybe even thousands of years, but . . ." I thought back to those first days at Forks High. "You didn't seem _ancient_. Just out of place."

"So perceptive," he whispered. For a moment, he sounded proud.

I smiled, feeling shy. "I guess it's pretty cool, to be honest. And at least we were born in the same century, right?"

I thought he might agree with this, but instead his gaze turned penetrating and sad.

"What?" I asked, not understanding.

"You're so full of life."

"Why does that make you sad?"

"Because I'm not."

"Not what? Alive?"

He nodded and looked down.

"You are in your own way," I said.

He laughed without humor. "I exist. I don't live."

I reached my hand across the table again. I wanted to comfort him, and as I stared at his hand so close to mine, I thought of something.

"You feel."

He was silent a long moment, then brushed his fingers over mine. "Yes, I do."

Prickles of energy raced up my arm at his icy touch. He seemed to have a direct line to my heart, and it echoed loudly in my ears.

"Is this . . . whatever this is . . . because you're, you know? A va—"

"I can't say. It's new to me." Very carefully, so I could barely feel it, he stroked the back of my hand.

"Is it?" I could barely form words.

"I've never met anyone I wanted this kind of . . . contact with." He moved his fingers to my wrist, and in a single graceful maneuver, turned my arm so he was holding my hand in his. "You're so warm," he said, stroking my palm.

I took an unsteady breath. "You're not."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's repulsive."

"No, it's not," I said, adding my other hand to the mix, trying to hold on.

"Don't, Bella. Please."

"Please what? I like it. Your skin is . . ." I blushed.

"Cold? Hard? Disgusting?"

"No!" _Quite the opposite, actually._ "It's . . . nice."

His eyes went wide. "Nice?"

I nodded and, very slowly, ran my thumb over the tendons on the back of his hand. "Like marble."

"Hmm."

He held my hands in his until Charlie coughed and the television volume dropped. I felt the emptiness of my palms reverberate in my chest as Edward returned to his notes. After a few seconds, he glanced up at me from under his lashes with a smile.

"Your father is dying for an excuse to interrupt us again."

I raised a surprised eyebrow at his words. "Is he now?" I asked.

Edward nodded, then shifted his gaze to the side. "He's anxious and . . . I think he's trying to remember whether or not your mother ever mentioned a boyfriend."

My heart lurched. I wasn't sure if it was because of the word _boyfriend _or because he was speaking so openly of his apparent mind-reading skills. "Um . . ."

Edward's expression turned calculating. "I must admit, I'm curious about that myself."

I swallowed. "Um . . ."

"Please tell me?"

I remained mute until the weight of his gaze grew too heady. I could barely breathe as I shook my head and whispered, "No, there's been no one."

"Never?" he asked, his voice incredulous.

"No. Never." I licked my lips and took a deep breath. "W-what about you?"

He put his pencil down and slid one hand across the table, carefully covering my fingers with his. "Never. Until now."

My heart dipped, and flipped, and did several other tricks. A blush rose to my cheeks as a stupid smile stretched across my face.

His thumb traced a feather-light line down my pointer finger. "This pleases you?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"I feel the same."

I met his gaze and was surprised by the intensity there. I watched, entranced, as his eyes seemed to liquefy, drawing me closer to him and making it harder to breathe. My face flushed hotter and Edward's fingers twitched against mine.

Slowly, he raised one hand and, very gently, stroked his thumb along my heated skin. Like before, icy fire pulsed through me. His touch both soothed and ignited. I thought I might pass out, or hyperventilate. Yet, I had the strongest urge to grab on to him and press closer still. To my disappointment, however, he removed his hand and sat back.

Clearing his throat, he picked up his pencil and flipped to a new page in his notebook. I stared at him, confused and bewildered, until I heard movement in the hallway behind me.

_Charlie. _

It took great effort to compose myself. Edward revealed nothing as he began writing again. His face appeared perfectly at ease for once, his shoulders were relaxed, and his hand steady. He didn't seem at all concerned about my dad, but neither did he seem affected by what had just transpired between us.

Frowning, I focused on calming my racing heart as I tried not to overthink things. A pencil rolled my way and I glanced up.

Edward raised his golden eyes to mine and grinned. "Try to look like you're studying, Bella. I'm not ready to leave your side just yet."

My dad's clomping steps sounded moments later. I blinked and felt my mouth lift in a half smile.

_He wasn't ready to go home yet._

I tried to look busy as Charlie entered the kitchen and clapped his hands. "Man, what a game."

He stopped right behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. "How's it going in here?"

I blushed, glad I was looking down. "It's good."

Edward put his pencil down and reached for his backpack. "Hi, Chief," he said. Then, looking at me he said, "Did you want to start the study guide next?"

_Huh? _

Before I could make an idiot of myself, he produced the paper Mr. Banner had given me at school. I squinted at him in astonishment. "Uh . . . sure. Why not?"

He smiled and laid it on the table between us.

Charlie gave me a little squeeze and walked toward the fridge. "Big test?"

"Something like that," I said.

Charlie hummed and opened the refrigerator door. Edward and I pretended to work while he rooted around. Eventually he pulled out a Coke and turned around.

"Well, not that I'm rushing you, but how much longer do you two think you'll be?" he asked.

I looked at the clock over the stove out of habit. "I don't know. An hour or so?"

"Okay, just remember it's a school night," he replied.

"We're aware, Dad," I said dryly.

Edward chuckled and when I looked up he winked before swiveling around in his chair.

"My mom said I can stay until 9:30, sir. Is that too late?"

Charlie gave him an appraising glance. "No, I guess that sounds reasonable."

When he turned back around, Edward looked triumphant. I rolled my eyes. _Stupid, smug vampire._

Charlie stuck around a few more minutes, washing the dishes and putting the leftovers away. I briefly thought I should invite boys over more often if it meant seeing his domestic side, but then looked at Edward and blushed. No, there would be no boys for me.

When Charlie had gone, I let out a breath and put down my pencil. "That was fun."

Edward smiled. "It's fine. I'm glad we have a chaperone."

I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but I was more interested in something else. "You knew he was going to check on us before he came in here."

Edward nodded.

"How?"

"I could hear him."

"Hear him _how_?"

Edward's lips quirked. "As I said before, heightened senses."

I narrowed my eyes. "Be more specific. I need straight answers from you."

He tapped his pencil on the table. "And I need answers from you."

We stared at each other. He wanted me to cave first, I was sure of it, but out of the two of us, he had far more secrets than I did. And I had more to lose. At least I thought so.

"How about an exchange?" I suggested. "You answer my questions and I'll answer yours."

"Fair enough. Just keep your voice down, please." He glanced over my shoulder.

I nodded. "Of course."

"Then ask away."

"How _exactly_ did you know my father was coming to check on us?"

He stared at me, looking for something, though I didn't know what. Finally he sighed. "I heard him moving around, getting restless. I also saw your face in his mind, accompanied by suspicion and worry."

So we were finally dropping all pretenses. I smiled. "So when you said you can usually tell what people are thinking, you were being literal."

His eyes danced back and forth, never leaving my face. "Yes."

"But you said you can't hear what I'm thinking, right?" My heart gave a little lurch at the mere idea.

"No," he said, frowning, "I can't. And before you ask, I don't know why that is. It's never happened to me before."

"Really?" I asked, both relieved and bothered.

He tilted his head to the side. "Well, that's not entirely true. Your father's mind is nearly silent to me as well. All I can make out are impressions and feelings. I can divine what he's thinking about, but the actual words are blocked to me."

"So, earlier . . . were you guessing that stuff about my mom and . . . boys?"

He chuckled. "No, those thoughts were pretty strong. And he was thinking about it long enough for me to put it together."

"Oh."

"Is it my turn for an answer now?" he asked.

"Uh, sure, I guess."

He leaned toward me, his eyes boring into mine. "How did you come to the conclusion you did about what I am?"

I felt a sudden surge of remembered fear. A dark and frightening car ride. Dodging explanations that would place other people—one specific person—in danger. I sank into my chair, recalling the heartache and tears that resulted of our mutual decision that the explanations didn't matter. Now he wanted that explanation.

"Is it really so important to you? It's done, and you can _trust_ me. I won't tell anyone."

His expression didn't change, but regret swam in his eyes. "I don't doubt that. But I must know. For my sake, and for yours."

It seemed funny to me then, how the full consequences of some decisions are only revealed after those decisions have already been made. I didn't know that my decision to stay away from Edward—to let my fear overpower the draw I felt to this fascinating, infuriating, and possibly dangerous creature—would actually make me realize how much I cared for him. I didn't know how much it would hurt not to see him again, or that, in the mother of all ironies, he would be the one to make me feel safe again.

What if telling him the truth had a similarly unseen outcome? What if Edward punished Jacob Black for "violating the treaty"? All because Jacob was a silly boy who didn't believe in his ancestral legends?

"Please, Bella." His voice was like velvet and I knew if I looked at him, that dazzling, liquid stare would be waiting for me.

So I fixed my eyes on a spot near his ear and told him the safest version of the story I could. "I did some research on the Internet."

He didn't react except to frown; I could see it in my peripheral vision. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a spectacularly bad liar?"

I huffed. "I'm not lying. Go check my computer if you wish."

He moved his head until I had no choice but to meet his gaze. "If it's all the same to you, I prefer you tell me the _whole _truth yourself."

I sighed. "I can't. I promised."

"Promised? Promised whom?" he asked, his voice low and entreating. His eyes were once again imploring, like molten lava.

"Stop that," I said, grasping desperately onto the last of my composure.

"Stop what?" he asked.

"Dazzling me. It's not fair."

He blinked. "I _dazzle _you?"

I nodded. "All the time. I've seen you do it to other people, too."

His expression turned from one of pleased surprise to confusion.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't play dumb. Do you really think Mrs. Cope writes passes for everyone the way she does for you?"

His lips pinched in distaste. "I wasn't trying to dazzle you like _that_."

"Weren't you?"

He sighed and leaned forward, crossing his arms over the table. "That wasn't my intent, no. I'm sorry."

I leaned forward too. "Forgiven. I still can't tell you who told me, though. Like I said, I promised."

"So someone did tell you?"

Damn. I twisted my fingers together, thinking. "Well, um, someone gave me another theory. I put it to the test, and then"—I took a big breath—"after Port Angeles happened, well . . . you didn't do a very convincing job of denying it. Or disproving it."

His pencil snapped. His jaw tensed and ticked while his eyes blazed. He looked furious, but I thought perhaps, this time, not at me. I could see he was trying to work it out. Trying to pinpoint who and how and when. I was about to apologize and ask if we couldn't just let it go, when comprehension lit his features and he dropped the bits of pencil left in his hand.

"Your visit to First Beach," he said. I bit my lip, trying to keep my breathing steady, as horror washed over him. "Someone in La Push _told_ you?"

I held his gaze for several breaths before nodding slowly.

"How many people did they tell?" The venom in his tone was startling, if not altogether unexpected.

I rushed to soothe him, though, and to protect Jacob. "Nobody. I promise. It was me. Just me."

"Are you sure?" he pushed.

"Yes," I said, 99.99% positive it was the truth.

"Bella. You must be certain. Is it possible anyone else overheard?"

"No." I shook my head and tried to suppress a shudder. _I'm sorry, Jacob._ "It was just me and one boy. We went on a walk along the beach, but we were alone the whole time."

He watched me for a long moment. "This complicates things. The Quileutes are, or were, sworn to secrecy."

"Yes . . . there was some talk of a treaty," I said, slowly. Then, feeling another spark of fear for my unwitting informant I continued. "But you have to believe that he didn't put any value in the stories. The person who told me, I mean . . . he didn't think they were real."

Edward rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You said it was a boy?"

"Yes . . ." I said, drawing the word out in my anxiety.

"And how did the subject come up? You couldn't have possibly guessed the child would know anything about us."

"Um . . . well, your name came up in conversation, and when one of the local boys overheard it, he said your family wasn't allowed there."

Edward snorted. "Did he now?"

I tried to remember the exact words. "He may have just said, very cryptically, that you didn't ever go to the reservation. Something like, 'the Cullens don't come here_._'"

He sighed and shook his head. "Okay. But could you please explain how you got from that remark to full disclosure?"

I bit my lip and concentrated very hard on the sheet of paper between us.

Edward slid it toward his side of the table. "What are you hiding from me now, Bella Swan?"

His voice was tender, making me glance up. But I quickly looked down again.

"I may have flirted with one of them. I'd, um, met him before," I said, praying my father didn't overhear this conversation. "He's younger than me and I just sort of . . . flattered him. A lot."

Edward's uproarious laughter startled me. "Oh, poor, poor boy. He never had a chance."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, trying to calm my racing heart.

He continued laughing until my dad yelled down the hall, wondering what was so hilarious.

"Nothing, Dad!" I yelled back, glaring at Edward.

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's just—" He cracked up again, but quieter this time. "You have no idea the appeal you hold to the average male, and that's without trying. I cannot imagine what kind of damage you can do when you're out to get something you want."

I fumed. Damage? That was supposed to be a compliment, I assumed, but it seemed a backhanded one to me.

"Like you're one to talk," I snapped.

He smiled at me, humor still ripe on his features. It made him somehow more beautiful, which made me want to scream. I stood up and went to the refrigerator.

"Are you angry with me?" Edward asked after I'd pulled out a Coke to legitimize my little display.

I took a deep breath and shut the door. "What do you think?"

I moved as far from him as I could in the tiny kitchen. For some reason, I felt like I could cry at the slightest provocation. I opened a cabinet to get a glass, which I normally would have skipped, in order to keep myself busy.

"I'm sorry for laughing," Edward said.

"It's okay."

I went back to the freezer for some ice.

"Bella, I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at _you_." He sounded contrite, even a bit wounded.

I sighed. "I know."

I popped the tab on my Coke and poured the drink into the glass. Edward spoke again while I waited for the fizz to die down.

"You are a beautiful young woman, Bella. You're also smart, and kind, and good. When put together, it's a powerful combination. Believe me, I can hear what they're all thinking."

I shook my head, flustered and embarrassed. "You don't have to flatter me."

"I'm not flattering you."

I didn't know what to say to that. Or what to do. I was too out of sorts to return to the table and pretend that the entire humiliating exchange hadn't taken place—never mind that it had ended on a high note, an enormous compliment from a walking Apollo.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"If we're going to continue spending time together, you will have to get used to hearing how special you are."

I sucked in a breath. I hadn't heard him get up, but his voice was suddenly right behind me.

"Please turn around."

I took a deliberately slow drink and put the glass down before doing as he'd asked. He was inches away. Close enough to feel the strange energy that passed between us whenever we touched.

He lifted a finger to my chin, raising it until our eyes met. "It's a very good thing your father is the Chief of Police. It would cause a sensation if something were to happen to you."

"What?" I asked, swallowing heavily.

"You really don't see, do you? You are temptation incarnate. I can't trust myself around you."

I didn't see, but I thought there was another compliment in there somewhere. "Thank you?"

His chuckled darkly. His face was amused, but somehow still tormented. "Now you say thank you? You should be running down the hall screaming for your father to get his gun. Not that it would make a difference."

"Why?" I asked, caught in his gaze.

"You know why."

"B-break it down for me." I licked my lips. "Please?"

His eyes darkened. "I am the world's greatest predator, Isabella. A lion in sheep's clothing. I could kill you so easily. I could end you, and your father, before either of you knew there was cause for alarm."

My heart stuttered and then beat double time. "Are you going to?" I asked breathily.

He moved the finger beneath my chin and twisted it into a wisp of hair that had come loose from my bun. "No."

I took a deep breath. "Because it would cause a . . . sensation?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"Because I couldn't live with myself if anything ever happened to you."

I felt frozen in place, but my heart was flying. I smiled as he tucked the strand of hair he'd been playing with behind my ear. His gaze held mine for ages. It felt like there were a million and one things I should ask and a million more that Edward should say, but neither of us dared to risk the fragile peace we'd come to.

He was a vampire. An admitted predator and mind reader who had been on this earth at least a century. He'd warned me time and time again to stay away from him, that he was a bad friend for me, and that he was dangerous. He didn't trust himself around me. Yet, he was here.

And I wasn't running. I wasn't screaming or shaking in fear. At least not the kind of fear most people would feel in my situation. I was afraid he would leave again. That he would decide to run for the both of us and succeed. And if he succeeded, I was afraid I'd spend the rest of my life feeling the emptiness I'd felt during the past two days.

"What are you thinking?"

"That I don't want you to leave," I said honestly.

He smiled. "We still have some time before I have to go."

"That's not what I meant."

His smile faded and he groaned low in his throat. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

"Why not?"

"Because it isn't right." Sadness wrenched his features. "You shouldn't feel this way. Not about me."

I tried not to be hurt by that. "Well, I do. And there's really nothing you can do about it."

"I could try."

"You could. Or you could just accept it."

He stared at me with a fathomless expression, and then inhaled. His eyes fluttered closed as his hands tightened into fists.

He snapped his head to the side suddenly and I swore I felt his chest rumble. "Charlie's coming."

I blinked as he took my hand and grabbed my forgotten glass off the counter behind me.

"Sit," he ordered.

I did, gasping softly as he moved in a blur around the table. He retook his seat a little slower, placing my drink between us and then wiping the shards of broken pencil away before flipping the biology book to a new page. All in less than five seconds.

When he finished, he glanced over my head and then at me. "Relax."

I tried. I really did, but it was almost impossible. My heart was racing. My mind spinning. I couldn't slow it down, not until he reached across the table to brush my fingers with his.

"Breathe, Bella."

Doing as he suggested, I held his gaze until he dropped his head and began writing in his notebook once again. By the time my father returned, Edward Cullen was murmuring biology terms under his breath and simultaneously writing his name on my heart.

* * *

><p><em>*<strong>Disclaimer–<strong>__This is a derivative work of fiction. ___All rights to the Twilight Saga and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. _ No copyright infringement is intended.* _


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